


FIND SOMEONE WHO’S TURNING

by sandyk



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:37:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just had sex with your best friend getting over a heinously awful break up, think about etiquette and college and sheets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FIND SOMEONE WHO’S TURNING

**Author's Note:**

> not for profit, not mine. Thanks to anna for awesome beta-ing. Title from the Neil Young song Don't Let It Bring You Down.

Lisa never experimented in college, apparently unlike every other female student she’d met. And no one did that in medical school. Not that she heard, anyway. She tried to remember if she’d thought about it. Clearly she had no problem with it, she thought. They’d done it right on top of Stacy’s bed and Lisa wondered why she was dwelling on that. Just had sex with your best friend getting over a heinously awful break up, think about etiquette and college and sheets.

“So you can never tell Greg,” Stacy said. She wiggled her toes and Lisa noticed Stacy had had a pedicure very recently. Her toes were a perfect pink color, like a bride.

Stacy was not getting married any time soon. Lisa needed a pedicure, it had been months.

Lisa said, “Why would I?” She sat up and flexed and stretched. She was getting cold. “When do you think I’ll see him again?”

“Things come around,” Stacy said, laughing. She had a lovely voice and a pretty laugh. Lisa didn’t think she had either. At least she had a great body.

She got out of the bed and followed the trail of clothes until she found her underwear and her shirt. “I’m sorry you broke up,” she said.

“I think we covered that,” Stacy said. “And we’ve moved on. I’ve moved on. I think. Mostly. Enough. Thank you alcohol and good food.”

“Very good food,” Lisa said. “Lobster. Damn good lobster. And I actually liked that salad. I usually hate salad.”

“Damn good you,” Stacy said. “You really haven’t done that before?”

“I really haven’t.” Not like she’d never kissed before or the other things. She worried for a moment she was in denial of her own actions thinking phrases like “other things” and made herself review in vivid pictures everything they’d just done. She was thinking too much. She flushed and decided she was not in denial of any kind, she had really enjoyed all of it and she owned it. “Though now I’m thinking that was another dumb idea.”

“A dumb idea like having sex with me?” Stacy was half sitting up, supported on her elbows. Like a yoga pose, only naked and sexy. Stacy also had a great body.

*

“I never did tell Greg,” Lisa said.

“That is so sad,” Stacy said. “He would have loved that story.”

“Maybe I’ll tell him next week when I’m back at the hospital.” She wouldn’t. She had no intention of telling him or Wilson that she’d randomly run into Stacy. And she definitely wouldn’t mention if something happened tonight.

“Do whatever you want,” Stacy said. She drank her drink. “Remember when we were fun? Remember when we didn’t have conversations about the good old days?”

“Vaguely,” Lisa said. “I think I’m still fun. Or maybe I was never fun.”

“You were the definition of fun,” Stacy said. “Good in bed, smart, hot, youngest ever and still smoking hot.”

“You said that twice.”

“You’re that hot,” Stacy said.

“You’re a flirt,” Lisa said. “But I appreciate it. It’s an upgrade of my usual flirting.”

“I don’t care how Greg treats you,” Stacy said. She had correctly guessed the only person who ever seemed to flirt with Lisa these days. Stacy said, “I care about you, not him.”

Lisa thought, over him again. Stacy would say that. She didn’t want to hear it. “I appreciate how you express that by never writing me.”

Stacy said, “I told you I got divorced. I sent Christmas cards. But you are right, I’m a horrible correspondent. I’m a horrible person.”

“And drunk,” Lisa said.

“Not yet,” Stacy said. She pushed away her glass. “Probably not tonight at all.”

“You sound drunk,” Lisa said.

“I sound Southern, which I am. And yes, when people compliment you, they are have to be intoxicated. Because you’re underrating yourself.” Stacy smiled and stood up from the table. “Come up and see me some time. I’m in room 405.” She still had a wonderful body when walking away.

“It worries me,” Lisa said, standing at the door. “I’m worried that I came up here.”

“I’m worried, too. But come in anyway,” Stacy said. “I have no plans to be back, you know.”

“So tomorrow would be just like today. Christmas cards.”

Stacy sat down on the edge of the bed. “You are really dwelling on this lack of communication.”

“I do the same thing. To everyone,” Lisa said. “It’s all bullshit.”

“Well, good, then we’re both awful people. Apparently, I have a weakness for them.”

“We are taking the night off, if we do this, we are taking the night off from awful people we both know. I have to insist,” Lisa said.

“You mean like Mona Steele?” Stacy stood and stepped out of her expensive heels.

“Who is Mona Steele,” Lisa said. She sat down in the chair across from the bed and took off her own less expensive shoes. She massaged the balls of her feet, one after the other. Habit, even when her feet didn’t hurt.

“That awful nurse, the one who smelled like burnt acorn squash all the time. How did you convince me to work for your horrible hospital, I still have no idea.”

“I’m very good at my job,” Lisa said. She had taken off her skirt and blouse and folded them carefully on the chair. She was in bra and panties and felt like she was already naked. She wondered how different she looked after 10 years. She wondered what burnt acorn squash really smelled like. She would have said Mona smelled bad.

“I should write more,” Stacy said. “I should, I know. Emails, whatever people actually read these days.”

“I wouldn’t have time to reply,” Lisa said.

“Make time,” Stacy said. She was naked, actually naked, and perfect even now, sitting on the edge of the bed again, legs slightly spread. Lisa had to remind herself to breathe and she didn’t really care about acorn squash at all anymore.

“Okay,” she managed to say.  



End file.
